Free Heart of Steele by Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER

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    For many days we had been making our way north and east, heading, I guessed, to the little low island called Cruzado in the southern Bahamas, between Inagua Island and the Caicos and Turks Islands. A band of pirates had made a small settlement there, and we needed to replace our damaged foremast before a storm could rise and break it in two.
    Captain Hunter nursed the ship along. His navigation was usually good, but this time his reckoning was off. We were too far south and east, and we came within sight of a ragged scattering of small islands, hardly more than rocks. Toward sunset, Mr. Adams climbed to the maintop to scan them with his telescope, and when he returned to the deck, he said, “I think the island in the far distance is Salt Cay, sir. We must be south of Grand Turk.”
    Captain Hunter cursed at that. “Then we have to come about. Our course must be northwest by north, and—”
    “A ship!” cried the sailor on lookout duty.
    “Where away?” the captain called back.
    “Fine on the larboard bow,” the lookout answered.
    I could see nothing from the deck. Captain Hunter scrambled up the shrouds, though, and stared off to the east. “It’s the
Fury,”
he called down at last, and I breathed a little easier. The
Fury
was a sloop under the command of John Barrel, a right, true buccaneer and a friend of ours from back in the early part of the year.
    Captain Hunter slid down a backstay like a boy, dropped to the deck, and ordered, “Clear for action.”
    I could not believe my ears. The one-legged John Barrel had been loyal to us when we were under heavy fire in Tortuga Harbor. It would be monstrous to repay his loyalty with cannon fire.
    But then I realized that Barrel knew Steele—had even sailed with him—and that he was just the sort of connection to Steele that the captain wanted. I ran below to my uncle, who was reading by the glow of a lantern, and gasped out the news.
    “The devil!” he exclaimed, clapping his book shut. “Let me have a word with William.”
    We hurried back to the deck. The men had run out the larboard cannons, though they looked uneasy and unsure of themselves.
    “Let him come within pistol-shot range,” Captain Hunter ordered. “Then we shall take him.”
    I looked over the rail. The
Fury
had closed fast, coming down with the wind. She was only two hundred yards away.
    And then, with surprising speed, she shifted her sails, spun about to show us her broadside, and opened fire!

Fury Attacks
    GRAPESHOT RIPPED ACROSS our decks, shredding men and lines and sails. Railing flew into splinters and one of our guns was thrown over, crushing half of its crew under two tons of iron. Men screamed and cursed, and a dazed Captain Hunter stood there, his cutlass limp in his hand. Uncle Patch yanked him around and shouted into his blank face.
    “Awake, William!” he roared. “The devil’s dealt new cards and you haven’t even picked up your hand!”
    Fire came billowing back into the captain’s eyes, and for a horrible moment I thought he was going to strike my uncle, and that would mean the end ofus. Then something shiny and sharp came sailing over the larboard railing and bit into the black wood with a meaty thud. Both Uncle Patch and Captain Hunter stared at it.
    “Boarders!” Uncle Patch snarled with a curse.
    More of the silver hooks were flying up and over now just as the
Fury
emptied another broadside into our starboard. I ran to the side to see what was going on, only to be yanked back by my uncle after a glimpse.
    “Have ye gone brainless as well?” he thundered. “Down, ye young fool, down!”
    I was shoved down onto the deck, but I had seen what I had seen. Three longboats loaded to the gunnels with pirates were lashing themselves to our port side. While we had been concentrating on the
Fury,
they had crept up on us, silent as fever. And now they were roaring up our sides, all screams and steel.
    And every one of them had a strip of red silk tied to his right